The Nightmare Of Reality
by spontaneous contraption
Summary: Wow. That's a really corny title.  "Emily is suffering from Night-Terrors, but is hiding it from everyone."  There is no "better" summary iinside, innfact, there isn't one.    Oh well.      Rated T out of paranoia.


**Author's Note**: First and foremost, I would like to thank DreamerBuggy for beta-ing this. OOdles and Oodles of thanks :D

Also, this is my first story, so bare with me. Though, criticism is muchly appreciated. (even if it's harsh.) So, R&R everyone!

Again, thanks DreamerBuggy (and to all those future readers). Sincerely, ; spontaneous contraption (Sponty)

**Disclaimer**: "Dear Santa, this year I want a horse, and to own Criminal Minds... Sincerely, Sponty"

So, no. Much to my displeasure, I do not own Criminal Minds. But, I'm slowly convincing jolly ol' saint nick over there to use some of his magical christmas fairy dust. Patience, everyone, patience...

_**;;;**_

The fresh layer of snow lay across the area of Quantico, a few of faded tire tracks denting the white fluff. The city slept, tucked away from the cold beneath their blankets, all the worries buried underneath their pillows, and the stars above guiding their dreams to a hopefully happy place.

Except her.

Emily Prentiss lay in bed, eyes glued to the ceiling of her bedroom while the remainder of sweat dried on her forehead. She wouldn't tell anyone else, and she worked hard at hiding it, but ever since her first night in Paris, she had been haunted by nightmares. Of the team being her previous position- fighting for their life at the hands of Ian Doyle.  
>In her most recent nightmare, she had watched them from behind Ian. She had screamed for them in her dream, and no doubt in the conscious word as well. She had fought against the invisible restraints that held her back from saving their lives.<br>And then she woke in a fit of fear, sadness, regret, sweat, and screams. It was the worst one yet, and she was now entirely afraid to slip into another light sleep. She was afraid to close her eyes and succumb to the unconscious world. But, like any other working woman, she had work to attend to in the morning. A building filled with people she would have to lie to if they asked anything about why she looked so tired, or she refused to sleep on any of the late night trips on the way home from where ever a depressing case brought them. They would be suspicious of her for a while, but none of them pried. Never. She wasn't sure if she should have been frustrated or relieved about their respect for her privacy. She wanted to tell someone, she wanted to have at least one person out there who she could divulge into about her life. Though, another part of her wasn't sure if did want someone to know about her night terrors, her distant feelings from her career.

Now, not even her small apartment was not a sanctuary anymore. She no longer came over with a feeling of safety when the door closed behind her. The sweet smell of her interior was no longer held the same relieving familiarity to it like it once had, back before her nemesis had reappeared into her previously decent life. She hated to admit to herself that the events that unfolded a matter of months ago had changed her somehow. She despised it to her core.

Her eyelids closed around her eyes, a long breath escaping her lungs and slipping through her teeth. She had to try and get a little sleep, disturbed or not. There was a good chance she had to solve a murder or something troubling in the morning, and that involved putting everyone else's problems ahead of her own. That's what she did. She wouldn't let anyone waste any time over her problems in life- they had done enough when Matthew had died. They had done more than enough when Ian had taken her hostage. But, Hotchner and JJ had gone there and beyond when they hid her away. Risked their jobs by feigning her death to the rest of the world. To her closest friends.  
>A small tear slipped out from between her closed eyes, trailing down her cheek and darkening the navy pillow covers that supported her head. This was painful. She had felt guilty- she was feeling guilty this very moment. She felt bad for putting those she loved through such pain, just for her protection. This, in fact, had all started because she disappeared to find Doyle alone in an attempt to protect them. How ironic. There was a sudden patter on her window, telling it her it had begun to rain. And for some reason, the sound was soothing. It filled the silence the suffocate her where she lay, giving her a distraction from where her thoughts have wondered of the course of... Who knows how long. Her eyes were still closed, and he didn't have the will to open them and take a gander at the clock that was on the few sources of light in this particularly dark night. Who know that those who make a living catching those who turn innocent people's lives upside down could end up the very same victims? The same ones who sat with tears in their eyes, alway looking over their shoulder, and always checking they locked their door. It would have never crossed her mind to think that she would have ever ended up victimized by a man she had long since put in the past. But it looks like the skeletons in her closet regained their will to see through right and wrong, she just couldn't tell if what had happened was the right or wrong thing to be done. It basically screamed wrong, but their was a second side to the decision that whispered it had been the right choice. So indecisive.<p>

And that's how the night went by. The rain grew harder, the only source of sound within the empty house. It was oddly peaceful and settling, but she knew their faces haunted the space behind her eyelids, but it was no better than the reality that awaited her outside them.

**Author's Note (#2)**: Yeah, it's short. I had the second part going, and then my brother broke my computer, rendering me incapable of typing it up. That, and I lost everything (including access to the internet for a while there) But, now it's back (yay).

Thanks for reading.


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